As Zuo Feng studied the wounded man, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He had finally found the perfect test subject, and he was eager to see what the man's body could reveal about the virus.

The wounded man lay on the ground, barely conscious, as Zuo Feng studied him. He was in a great deal of pain, but Zuo Feng didn't care. He was too focused on his research, on finding a cure for the virus.

"You're lucky," Zuo Feng said to the man, his voice cold and emotionless. "You're the perfect test subject. Your body is full of the virus, but you haven't transformed into a zombie yet. You're a valuable asset to my research."

The man looked at him with pleading eyes, but Zuo Feng was unmoved. He had no pity, no compassion. He was only interested in his research.

"Please, let me go," the man begged. "I have a family, a wife and children. They need me."

But Zuo Feng was not moved by the man's pleas. He was only interested in the virus, and how it was affecting the man's body.

His determination to discover a treatment for the virus that has plagued him has turned into an obsession.

The man looked at him with despair in his eyes, knowing that he had no hope of survival. He knew that Zuo Feng would continue to use him for his research, until he was nothing more than a shell of a person.

Zuo Feng continued his research, taking samples and analyzing the virus. He was determined to find a cure, even if it meant sacrificing the man's life.

A novice like Zuo Feng was using his cultivation to sense the internal structure of the virus and was testing various expensive medicines that countered some of it while also attempting to develop a completely new kind of medicine because there was no such thing in this world as a microscope or any other scientific apparatus.

As he worked, he realized that the man was unique in his condition. Many people in this world had the passive virus, but they showed no signs of it on the outside. They were able to live their lives normally, without fear of turning into zombies.

But this man was different. He had developed symptoms, and his body was showing signs of the virus. Zuo Feng was curious as to why this was the case.

He spent hours studying the man, taking samples and analyzing the virus. He asked the man questions, trying to understand his condition.

The man, meanwhile, lay on the ground, barely conscious and in pain. He could only watch as Zuo Feng studied him, without any hope of escape.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

As the days passed, Zuo Feng became more and more obsessed with his research. He spent all his time studying the man, trying to understand the virus and how it was affecting his body.

The man, meanwhile, grew weaker and weaker. He knew that he was dying, and he begged Zuo Feng to end his suffering.

"Please, end my suffering," the man said, his voice weak and hoarse. "I can't take this anymore."

Zuo Feng looked at him, his face expressionless. "I can't do that. You're still valuable to my research."

"But I'm dying," the man said, tears streaming down his face. "Please, have mercy."

"Mercy has no place in the world of cultivation," Zuo Feng replied coldly. "I need to continue my research, to find a cure for the virus."

But as the man lay there, he remembered something important. His father was also a cultivator and a member of a powerful sect. He knew that his father would come looking for him, and he knew that he had to warn him about Zuo Feng's true nature.

With all his strength, the man managed to whisper, "My father is a cultivator, and he belongs to a powerful sect. He will come looking for me, and when he does, I'll make sure he knows what you've done."

Zuo Feng looked at him with a cold and emotionless expression, "It doesn't matter, whether your father comes or not, I'll continue my research."

As the days passed, the wounded man realized that he cannot wait for his father. He knew that he had to escape before it was too late.

Zuo Feng had sealed his wounds, and as his body had progressively recovered, he had gained unexpected courage. Zuo Feng was not present in the shelter, and there was no imprisoning formation either.

He waited for the right moment and when Zuo Feng was distracted, he made a run for it.

The wounded man managed to run for a few days, but eventually, Zuo Feng found him hiding in an abandoned building, weak and exhausted.

"You can't escape me," Zuo Feng said, as he walked over and picked him up. "You're mine, and you will continue to be my test subject."

The wounded man looked up at him, his eyes filled with fear and desperation. "Please, let me go," he begged. "I won't tell anyone about you. I promise."

But Zuo Feng was not moved by his pleas. He grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him back to his shelter.

"You're going to help me find a cure," Zuo Feng said, his voice cold and emotionless. "You're going to help me save the world, whether you like it or not."

As he was being carried over by Zuo Feng, the wounded man snapped out of desperation and began shouting loudly.

"You call yourself a savior, but what sort of savior would inflict such anguish and misery on another human? I lay here, injured and crippled, at the mercy of a putative rescuer, but your acts are cruel.

Many people have tried and failed. They had better equipment and assistance, but how can you succeed when you live in the middle of nowhere?

This is the curse of the cultivation world, and it is not a virus or anything else!"